Jason Rex
by Higurazel
Summary: After a discussion about whether there were dinosaurs who harried their prey and played with it in the same way as cats, I got the idea to write Jurassic Park but in a slasher style. That instead warped into: Let's crossover my favourite Slasher and my favourite theme-park-gone-wrong franchises and see what happens. Stupid finds a way...
1. Chapter 1

**Crystal Lake Research Facility - August 2010**

Carter stood with his hand resting on the cold steel door handle. He wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd first raised his hand, since he had frozen to the spot with his eyes fixed on the darkness beyond the glass. There was an ache in his left elbow, and the sensation of the hefty weight in his grasp finally starting to register in his brain. He looked down at the black case, his fingers wrapping tightly around the chrome handle. Perhaps a little too tightly, based on the cramp flooding into his palm and knuckles. Carter let out a long exhalation, his chest shuddering as the stale air escaped in a wheeze, frosting up the glass set into the door.

"You've got this," he muttered to himself, doing very little in the way of reassurance. Summoning up what reserves of willpower he had left, he pushed down on the door handle and slid it open.

The morgue was cold, that much he could understand. Controlling the temperature was a great way to stop the spread of bacteria and stop the occupants from stinking out the whole facility. What he couldn't get his head around was how dark it was always kept. Maybe too much light could fuck with the specimens too, Carter reasoned, but there was no way it could be safe operating all their saws and drills with such poor lighting. He reached to the side of the door frame and groped at the light switch, flicking it upwards.

*CLICK*

Nothing.

*CLICK*

Nothing.

Carter sighed. Of course. Of course there'd be no working lights in the morgue when he had to come in here alone. Why would anything be simple and _not_ pants-shittingly awful about this job? He cursed out the facility's maintenance teams under his breath, placing his hand on the edge of a table and slowly easing himself forward into the room. He picked his feet up high, treading softly and deliberately as he made his way through the morgue. He guided himself by the light of the corridor behind him and by the dim blue light bleeding in through the window. Feeble moonlight. Carter sighed again. All he needed was an ominous string quartet and his evening would be complete.

He took it slow, counting against his odds that he was going to knock something off one of the tables or step in something loose and soft and wet and...

Every step was a struggle to calm himself, get his breathing under control and stop the dread from chattering away in the crawlspaces of his brain. He rounded a corner and stopped in his tracks. Dead ahead, maybe a little over twenty feet away and hemmed in by a maze of empty steel tables, his target lay immobile on a gurney. A vast black island amidst the cluttered ocean of smokey greys, blues and silvers. From where he stood, Carter couldn't tell whether it was facing towards him or away from him. Hell, for all he could tell the massive lump might not have had a face at all.

He slunk in closer, sliding his way between examination tables to get within arm's reach of the target. He could make out its individual details more clearly now. Enormous well-worn boots on the ends of thick redwood-esque legs. Rotted clothes lying over the sunken musculature of a decaying corpse. His eyes traced over the outline of a gloved hand lying inert against the steel, clutched into a fist the size of a human head.

Over the whole cadaver was a veritable mesh of leather straps, cuffs and chains to secure it in place. Everything was locked and bolted, not a single inch of slack in any of the restraints. From what Carter recalled, the specimen had been dead on arrival and had been sequestered down in the morgue for the few weeks that had passed since then. Clearly the facility's security weren't taking even the slightest hint of a chance with this thing. Almost despite himself, Carter let his gaze explore further upwards and looked the monstrosity square in the face.

Skin and muscle ligaments seemed to collapse into the surface of a skull that was more battlefield than bone. Great craters and ragged scars ran across the monsters face. Expanses of flesh were burned, lacerated, putrefied or just plain missing. A few flat teeth jutted out of a receded jaw, and one milky-white sightless eye came close to bulging clear out of its misshapen socket. The sight was almost enough to make Carter wish they had left the damn thing's mask on. He looked across at the table immediately behind the occupied one, at the chipped and stained mound of plastic that had tasted bloodstains of countless victims. A shudder passed from the base of his skull all the way down his body into the floor. Maybe not.

Not wanting to spend any longer than was necessay, Carter got to work.

He set up the case on a nearby table and unlocked it, taking the small gun-like syringe out of its molded foam housing and started to screw in the specimen jar. To his amazement, his shaking hands didn't once drop the device or even accidentally impale his fingers on the glinting syringe tip. He searched over the body for a patch of skin that would serve as an appropriate harvesting ground, finally settling on an exposed stretch of its thick neck. He pressed the gun to the cool flesh and punctured it, gagging at the immediate release of smells. Ancient blood, formaldehyde, stagnant water. He shook his head, gripping the handle of the device tightly and thumbing the plunger. With a quiet sucking noise, the gadget drew a small amount of viscous black liquid into its chamber, gurgling away as it finished stealing a sizeable tissue sample.

He pulled the syringe out slowly, watching with idle curiosity and disgust as a tiny trickle of pungent grey liquid seeped down the giant's bulging throat. For the briefest moment he fancied he saw a small rush of movement, as though air was flowing down its neck and inflating its cavernous chest. After a few seconds of staring, he shook it off and began unscrewing the vial from the syringe before putting everything back into its container.

Hefting up the case, he gave one last look to the beast on the slab and turned on his heel, ready to finally get out of there. He took a step and his stomach dropped. The resistance felt very evident, something gripping his coat and holding it steady with inhuman strength. His pulse was beating away in his ears like a wardrum as he slowly started to turn, body rigid and eyes watering. His brain started recollecting all the names that had been passed around since the specimen had been brought in.

The Crystal Lake Killer.

The Campground Beast.

The New Jersey Ripper.

Jason fucking Voorhees.

He looked down at the still motionless corpse on the table, then moved his gaze down to the corner of the surface, where his coat had gotten pinched between two stretches of chain. His sigh was so forceful that he almost felt it rip up his throat. Tears had already started to wet his cheeks and he grit his jaw to keep from either laughing or crying. With a tug that was perhaps slightly more savage than it needed to be, he pulled his coat free from the chains.

Carter marched himself out of the morgue, slamming the door open on his way out. With stiff limbs he made his way upstairs into the main body of the facility, rounding on the storage and transport areas. Without even checking with the driver, he flung the case into the last crate to leave the building for the night, watching with detached disinterest as it was sealed up and hauled aboard a truck.

"Tell Dr Wimmer he can find someone else next time," he said, but even to his own ears his voice sounded strangled and quiet, he doubted the driver heard him. The truck pulled away and disappeared into the night, but Carter was already on his way to the exit. He passed by the same security guard he had seen day in and day out, never bothering to learn the man's name. Nick or Rick or something.

"Good night Mr Carter, see you tomorrow."

"No." Carter replied sharply. "Drinking."

He stormed out of the facility, halfway out of the car park before the door behind him had even had a chance to swing closed.

Left behind in a daze, Nick (or possibly Rick) watched him go with a puzzled look on his face. Sooner or later, all the techs started acting that way. He couldn't blame them. This place even gave him the creeps sometimes. Still, a job was a- He squinted at the stairwell door, hanging open where it should have swung itself closed. A vast black shape slumped in the dim light, turning a scarred and broken head his way. Nick's throat closed up, his lips drying and it was all he could do to mutter two words.

"Oh shit..."


	2. Chapter 2

May 1994

InGen Facility Site A - Isla Nublar - "Jurassic Park"

Ross rolled back on his chair, arching his eyebrow at the other engineer.

"Wait, you were here for that hurricane?"

"You bet your ass I was," Dane told him without looking up from his monitor. The older man tapped a pen absent-mindedly against his jaw and its bristles of short, grey hair. In the darkness of the room, his thick glasses reflecting out the glare from the white screen ahead. "At least until they evacuated us all. That was one tense night."

"I heard them saying that the whole site nearly lost power," Ross had turned his back to his work station, far more interested in the tales of the park's difficult birth. Like most of the staff, he had only recently joined the team and the old guard had been gently falling away. The majority hadn't returned after the evacuation of the island last year, the rest had just found that every close call and false alarm that the facility took (and there were a lot) left them paranoid and expecting a gruesome death at any second. Dane had remained and, to be honest, Ross had gotten the feeling that it was because of sheer bloody minded stubbornness. The old guy was way past the age where he should be thinking about retirement, and carried himself with the air of a man who would only consider death by prehistoric reptile "One more annoyance."

"The whole site did lose power," Dane grunted. "Luckily the backup generator came on before too much damage was done. A few specimen escapes, nothing major."

"We've got Raptors in here, man," Ross said, "a few escapes is the sort of thing I would think of as major."

Dane waved his hand dismissively. "Everything got contained and nobody got hurt. Well, nobody got _seriously_ hurt at least. A few cuts and bruises, a lot of scares. I even remember them saying they were going to destroy the Rex after that close call."

"No way, she's our star attraction."

"And at the time she was a nine-ton liability. A flesh-eating lawsuit on legs." Dane frowned. "I mean, I guess she still is but... I don't know, money won out or something."

"Did you hear they're going to be bringing more across in the future? From Site B. I guess as replacements for when the big girl finally bites it. Maybe a bad choice of words. How long do Dinosaurs live, anyway?"

"How the hell would I know? You'd have to ask Wu or one of his bio creeps. From what I can tell, making those monsters seems to be more guesswork and ad-libbing than actual science. Could be a year, could be a century. For all I know they might even outlast us."

"Well, we'll have some new Rexes some day, that's all I know."

"Christ, that's just what we need, more of those huge bastards. Still, at least it's not more raptors."

"You don't like 'em?"

"Hate those creepy fuckers. They're dangerous, they're way too smart to be kept in pens and they're not even a good draw. As soon as folk get anywhere near the enclosure they just bolt and hide away in the long grass. Waste of time and way too big a risk if you ask me."

"Maybe that's why they don't ask us." Ross chuckled. "Just keep us around for when things go wrong."

"Exactly-" Dane was cut off by a small red light blinking on the switchboard between the two men's work stations. A quiet buzzing noise rumbled out from the old speaker system, distorted and tinny.

"Case in point?" Ross asked.

"Case in point."

"I'll get this one, where's it at?"

"Gift shop up by the main entrance." Dane told him, "just go mess with the Triassic server block then give them a call. It'll probably fix itself in a few seconds anyway."

Ross got up and rolled his chair under the desk. He sighed as he wandered in the direction of the server room, calling back to his team-mate.

"I'm not saying I want something like that hurricane to happen again but come on. This is an island full of fucking Dinosaurs! We've got to have some more exciting problems than just cash registers shutting down."

He disappeared into the adjoining room and Dane was left alone with his thoughts. As often happened, they went back to that night last summer when the storm had reached the shores of the island.

He remembered the panicked voices of the staff all about him, the crash of thunder overhead and the rain beating against the land. Mostly he remembered the sounds that he might have only imagined at the time. Rustling in the bushes, twigs snapping in the undergrowth, something breathing just beyond where he could see. In all the chaos and confusion, he was certain his brain had just been overloaded and he was effectively just trying to scare himself. Even so, he knew that there was every possibility that something was watching them make their way to the boat.

Lights had streaked across the fleeing masses, helicopters moving overhead and closing in on sections of the island that held the most dangerous specimens. He had looked back to the island once he had made it onto the rescue vessel, shielding his eyes against the ferocious rain. He watched that vast shape rearing up past the canopy of the jungle, the huge maw opening and silhouetting itself against the moon. In the last moments before the doors were shut and the motors began to drown everything else out, he heard the roar of the Tyrannosaurus-Rex and felt it rumble inside his eardrums, settling into the deepest and most primordial corners of his brain. Somewhere between a fear of the dark and a fear of snakes, it took hold and made its nest.

As the boat had started to pull away, he knew he would never be rid of that noise.


	3. Chapter 3

InGen Site A "Jurassic Park" Admin Report 1 January 1994 - 31 December 1994

Final Guest Count: 12 Million

Final Profits: $530 Million

Incident Report: No incidents to report.

Note: Ladies and Gentlemen, congratulations. PT Barnum himself couldn't have done better. I know Mr Hammond is proud of all of you.

InGen Site A "Jurassic Park" Admin Report 1 January 1995 - 31 December 1996

Final Guest Count: 25.7 Million

Final Profits: $1.26 Billion

Incident Report: No incidents to report.

Note: Research division - Theropods are definitely bringing in a bigger audience. Two legs good, four legs bad, am I right?

InGen Site A "Jurassic Park" Admin Report 1 January 1997 - 31 December 1998

Final Guest Count: 23.5 Million

Final Profits: $890 Million

Incident Report: Security Breach - Stegosaur enclosure - 11/11/1997.

Note: Son of a bitch. What did you assholes make that fence out of? Duct tape and hope? If that spiny bastard didn't get our numbers dropping, that goddamn lawsuit sure left a mark. Do not let this happen again. If it does, a dinosaur escape is going to be the least of your troubles.

InGen Site A "Jurassic Park" Admin Report 1 January 1999 - 31 December 1999

Final Guest Count: 10 Million

Final Profits: $400 Million

Incident Report: No incidents to report.

Note: I keep telling you, you've blown this whole Y2K thing out of proportion.

We live and work on an island covered in giant dinosaurs, Dennis. Excuse the hell out of me for being cautious.

Cautious? You're being paranoid.

And if the shit hits the fan? If the systems fail?

Got a nice tin foil hat in just your size, pal.

InGen Site A "Jurassic Park" Admin Report 1 January 2000 - 31 December 2001

Final Guest Count: 19.5 Million

Final Profits: $800 Million

Incident Report: No incidents to report.

Note: Get that "Coupon Day" idea rolled out as quickly as possible. We've got to get these numbers up and fast. Drop the ticket prices. Slash them if you have to.

InGen Site A "Jurassic Park" Admin Report 1 January 2002 - 31 December 2004

Final Guest Count: 35 Million

Final Profits: $1.3 Billion

Incident Report: No incidents to report.

Note: It might sound like I'm telling you all to clap yourselves on the back, but that's only because that's exactly what I'm telling you to do. We're going to see some exciting developments in the way this park functions and the variety that is put on show over the coming years. Ladies and Gentlemen, it's all thanks to you.

InGen Site A "Jurassic Park" Admin Report 1 January 2005 - 31 December 2006

Final Guest Count: 38 Million

Final Profits: $1.9 Billion

Incident Report: IT breach. Classified information breaking disclosure protocol.

Note: Ladies and Gentlemen, I feel like this is a very important time to point out that we are a family here at InGen. If you have any concerns or issues, we would like you to raise them with us so that we can all work together to fix them. Alternatively, you could decide to leak classified information to very shady third-parties, just as Mr Hearle decided to do.

Feel free to ask him how that went in roughly thirty years when he is due to be released.

InGen Site A "Jurassic Park" Admin Report 1 January 2007 - 31 December 2009

Final Guest Count: 39 Million

Final Profits: $2.8 Billion

Incident Report: No incidents to report.

New genetic material aquisitions: Developmental Neogenetics Amalgamated, Cretaceous Studies Foundation, Proyect Zmei.

InGen Site A "Jurassic Park" Admin Report 1 January 2010 - 31 December 2011

Final Guest Count: 42 Million

Final Profits: $3.9 Billion

Incident Report: No incidents to report.

New genetic material aquisitions: Jurassic Coast Organisation, Konglong Gu Group, Crystal Lake Wildlife Conservation, Kirali Thadara Foundation.

InGen Site A "Jurassic Park" Admin Report 1 January 2012 - 31 December 2013

Final Guest Count: 42 Million

Final Profits: $4 Billion

Incident Report: No incidents to report.

InGen Site A "Jurassic Park" Admin Report 1 January 2014 - 31 December 2015

Final Guest Count: 40 Million

Final Profits: $3.9 Billion

Incident Report: No incidents to report.

Note: Starting to plateau a little, Ladies and Gentlemen. Marketing department, a word, please?

InGen Site A "Jurassic Park" Admin Report 1 January 2016 - 31 December 2017

Final Guest Count: 39 Million

Final Profits: $3.9 Billion

Incident Report: No incidents to report.

Note: The Safari Project is going ahead. We're going to start to see an increase in sales soon as we open up whole swathes of the park for organised trips to travel (under our security team's watchful eye) and get right up close to the animals. The less dangerous ones, naturally.


End file.
